


Doomsday Clock

by rodofatos



Category: Dota 2
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-09 01:37:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rodofatos/pseuds/rodofatos
Summary: When an inventor gets an idea, he'll stop at nothing to put it into place.Commission for anon.





	Doomsday Clock

As an inventor, Rattletrap was often described as calculating, yet impulsive. Indeed, many of the Clockwerk’s greatest inventions were the result of a flash of inspiration and hours of frantic, nonstop work on them just to see if they would work. His power cogs, his trusty hookshot, his beloved rocket flare… all were the brainchildren of the keen’s tenacity and swift handiwork.

This scheme, however, he had been meticulously planning for weeks.

Like many other great minds, Rattletrap kept a journal filled with plans and blueprints for designs he was eager to make. Unlike those great minds, however, he also wrote down his thoughts and feelings whenever he felt compelled to. He found it rather cathartic to have an outlet for his emotions, as the Clockwerk was never the best at personal relationships where he could express himself in such a way -- he usually preferred the company of his inventions, but they weren’t the best at making conversation. 

Recently, though, the pages of the journal detailed Rattletrap’s dream of forming one such relationship. Weeks ago, shortly after arriving at base camp, he had made a few notes regarding the other heroes on site -- or to be more precise, he had attempted to write about them. Yet he found himself distracted by a particular one: Lucifer.

Rattletrap was enamored with the Doombringer from the moment he first saw him. He waxed on and on in his notes about how absolutely handsome he found him to be, filling his pages with wistful fantasies and imaginary situations involving the two of them spending time together. Over time, the detailed stories gradually became more lewd and intimate, and eventually stopped being stories. They became plans.

This one was simple, ingenious. Rattletrap knew where Lucifer would be at this time of day: in the forest, looking for animals to devour alive. It was weird, but the Clockwerk shrugged it off as part of a demon’s diet. The reasoning behind it didn’t matter, though. What mattered is that, in just a few moments, the Doombringer would be walking right through his crosshairs.

Ready. Aim. Fire.

The hookshot flew out from Rattletrap’s suit with blinding speed. Although he was a few hundred feet away, within moments he could feel the feedback at the other end of the hook meaning it had punctured some armor. Then, moving just as fast as the grapple before it, the hefty, clunky suit of Clockwerk armor followed in its wake.

“Wha ha h--ow!”

Rattletrap crashed into the demon and fell to the ground as his hookshot retracted itself. He shook his head and looked up at the angry, menacing face of the Doombringer glaring down at him. Clutching his sword in one hand, Lucifer wrapped the other around the keen’s armor, picked him up, and brought him to eye level.

“Explain yourself, keen,” he growled gruffly. Lucifer was never really in the mood to talk, but the circumstances made him angrier than usual. “I want to hear a good reason why you interrupted my lunch.” His eyes narrowed, and he gripped the Clockwerk’s armor tighter. “Or perhaps you mean to offer yourself?”

“Oh, hey, Lucifer,” Rattletrap said casually. The Doombringer’s clutch was uncomfortable and hard to ignore, but he did not find it intimidating -- quite the opposite. He had expected him to react like this, and planned accordingly. It was time to engage the next part of his master plan. 

“Wanna fuck?”

It is not easy to dumbfound a demon, but Rattletrap’s question was more blunt and forceful than a wrench to the skull. Lucifer took a moment to process the Clockwerk’s question. He debated whether or not he should crush the keen in his clenched fist for even daring to speak such lecherous words to him… but he was intrigued.

The prideful, defiant demon did not usually deign to speak to lesser beings other than to taunt them. The leisures enjoyed by the heroes at base camp bored him, and he often found enjoyment in simply raising hell wherever he found himself. Yet here was a foolish keen who dared to advance on the Doombringer himself. The Clockwerk’s nerves, clearly, must have been as steely as his suit. Perhaps Lucifer would have to teach him a lesson.

Interested, yet trying not to show it, the demon loosened his grip. “Ah,” he mused aloud, “so you wish to offer yourself in another way.” He laughed wickedly, the way demons did, and placed Rattletrap back onto the ground, his chassis crumpled. “Very well, I accept,” the Doombringer said. “Pleasure me if you will.”

The Clockwerk giggled. “Not here, big guy! Do you want the whole forest to watch?” He tugged on one of the Doombringer’s armored fingers and motioned with his head away from the clearing. Lucifer obliged, and followed the keen’s springy steps out of the woods.

Within the hour, they had arrived at Rattletrap’s shack. The keen rushed to the door, opened it, and gestured for Lucifer to enter. The demon had to duck as he proceeded into the small hut, its small size unaccommodating to a creature of his stature. It didn’t help that the room was cluttered with unfinished contraptions, bits and pieces of machinery littering the floor. Rattletrap kicked aside the scraps as he closed the door behind him, grumbling something under his breath.

He cleared a path to the other end of the room, where a wide mattress rested on a frame mere inches from the ground. It wasn’t what the Clockwerk usually slept on -- a keen like him could easily rest on a square piece of fabric -- but Rattletrap, prepared as always, had constructed the bunk a few days before in the hopes that Lucifer would one day grace it with his presence.

The keen sat upon the bed and threw his head back. Finally, he had the chance to take off his hefty armor. Though he was used to the physical strain of wearing heavy plate all day, he still found it exhausting to stand under the summer sun encased in it, as if he were being cooked alive. He lifted his hands to either side of his helmet, removed it, and gingerly placed it down as he let out a long sigh of relief.

“Whew! I’m sweaty. Hope you don’t mind,” he laughed, glancing over at the Doombringer. Lucifer was standing awkwardly next to the bed, still hunched over a little so as not to hit his head on the ceiling. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do in the situation, but felt as if he could learn from observing the Clockwerk…

And then asserting his dominance when the moment called for it.

Rattletrap hopped off the bed to remove the rest of his suit. The process didn’t take long -- it was something he did every day, after all -- and soon he was standing proudly in front of the Doombringer clad in nothing but his briefs, hands on his hips. “What are you just standing there for, eh?” he asked, amused with Lucifer’s uncharacteristic lack of response. “Enjoying the view?”

The demon ran his eyes over the keen’s body. Lucifer had assumed that the Clockwerk would be decently strong to wear such bulky armor all the time, but he found himself almost jealous of how muscular the short creature was compared to him. The Doombringer himself was quite burly, of course, but his armor was painstakingly, finely crafted and fit his form much better than Rattletrap’s clunky, awkward guard. He might as well have just been lugging around weights all the time.

Following the Clockwerk’s example, Lucifer put his hands on either side of his head and pulled his helmet off, then tossed it to the side where it landed among Rattletrap’s trash.

The keen frowned. “Hey, don’t you wanna be a little more careful with that?”

Lucifer laughed at the question. “Gentle isn’t in my nature, keen.” 

The demon slid off his gauntlets, then placed his hands on his lower armor and tore them off of his body. He slid them up to his chest and removed his chestpiece in an equally violent fashion. Rattletrap looked on in awe, and perhaps a little bit of fear, as the Doombringer discarded the scraps of armor, exposing his nude body in all its glory.

Though Lucifer might have been annoyed at how incredibly muscular the puny keen was, Rattletrap was far more astonished with the Doombringer’s size. Everything about him was huge: his pectoral muscles bulged, he towered over the keen, and between his legs was a girthy, limp dick with a set of two plump balls.

“Wow…” the Clockwerk breathed. Lucifer was even more attractive than he had imagined in his myriad fantasies he had written. He hoped that he would feel just as amazing, too.

“Are you ready to start, then?” the Doombringer asked, a hint of complacency in his voice.

“O-oh yeah, of course! Uh, just come on up here and lay down.” Rattletrap pointed towards the bed.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told. The Clockwerk followed him, springing up on top of the Doombringer himself. He ran his clammy hands over the demon’s muscular body, starting with his chest area and slowly bringing them down towards his cock, already starting to grow at the sensation of Rattletrap’s touch.

“Let me get a feel for your hardware,” the Clockwerk said softly as he placed his hands upon the Doombringer’s dick, pulled back the foreskin, and began to gently jerk back and forth. “Just… testing the machinery.” The sheer circumference meant that Rattletrap had to use both of his hands -- just one wouldn’t be enough to grip the entire thing.

The demon’s dick grew harder and longer as Rattletrap kept up his stroking, soon becoming stiff in the Clockwerk’s clutch. Its full length was imposing, but impressive. “Fuck,” he muttered, “that’s big.” Indeed, it had certainly surpassed his expectations, but that wasn’t a cause for complaint. If anything, the added challenge was yet another reason he could barely contain himself.

“Hmm? Afraid it’s too big for you, keen?” the Doombringer asked, amused.

Rattletrap chortled in response. “Oh, Lucifer, don’t you know the first thing about construction? If it doesn’t fit, you make it fit.” He leaned in and gave the shivering head of the demon’s cock a kiss, then slid it into his mouth. Not surprisingly, it was difficult to fit in his mouth, but he wasn’t planning on having it occupied for long. He lapped his tongue against the thick dick a few times, getting it nice and wet. Then he pulled it out of his mouth and let go of the cock to reposition himself over the Doombringer, straddling him as he looked down into the demon’s sultry gaze.

The keen moved his butt around until he could feel Lucifer’s dick poking between his cheeks. He grinned. “I’ll work you over good!” With that, he lifted his ass and placed it on top of the Doombringer’s cock head, and pushed down.

He winced as he felt the enormity of the demon dick enter his ass, but his feelings of pleasure trumped his feelings of discomfort. Rattletrap letting out deep, heavy breaths as he struggled to fit the entirety of the Doombringer inside of him. He kept squeezing shut his eyes only to open them again, looking down at the demon to gauge his reaction.

Lucifer, saying nothing, had a satisfied look upon his face. The plan was working.  
Smiling, gratified with himself for seemingly pleasing the Doombringer, Rattletrap continued to lower himself, pushing Lucifer’s dick deeper and deeper inside of him. He shifted his gaze from the demon’s face to himself, and both saw and felt the feeling of a point of pressure emerge. Alarmed, the keen’s eyebrows shot up and he swiftly brought up a hand to press against it. “No way…” 

Rattletrap’s hard breathing became more excited as he began to lift himself up from the dick pushing deep inside of him. The feeling of having so much of Lucifer’s cock inside of him to the point where it made a protrusion was certainly odd, but incredibly arousing. He wanted more of it. He started to push and pull faster, trying to get closer and closer to the base of the demon’s dick. Every time he pushed down again, he felt the Doombringer’s cock swell inside of him, pushing against his stomach as if it wanted to go even further beyond.

“Fuck… Lucifer… you’re so… fucking… huge…”

Rattletrap was already expending a lot of energy with his now-rapid pace of riding the Doombringer’s cock, but trying to talk during it was a whole other level of exhausting. Perhaps he’d save the compliments for after their session.

Regardless, as the keen accelerated, he could feel another pressure of his own rising. With each pounding, Rattletrap grew closer and closer to climax, and could only hope that Lucifer was as near as him. “Oh, oh, ohhh…” He couldn’t bring himself to form a coherent sentence, but he knew they were both about to cum. He could feel it.

Rattletrap stopped his motions as soon as he felt the first surge start, the convulsing of the huge demonic dick nearly sending tremors through his tight butt. The Doombringer’s essence shot out with great intensity, and Rattletrap could only bask in the feeling of it flowing through him. It happened over and over, each time dwindling in power until the final drip of cum seeped out from Lucifer.

Sluggishly, Rattletrap pulled himself off of the Doombringer for the last time. The demon’s dick lamely fell out of the keen as he removed himself, no longer hard. Both Lucifer’s cock and the Clockwerk’s butt were coated with semen, and were undoubtedly still warm to the touch. With that, the keen collapsed on top of the demon and groaned in pleasure.

“Finished so soon, keen?” the Doombringer asked tauntingly. He didn’t even sound remotely out of breath.

“Ugh… yes... “ Rattletrap panted, barely able to say anything more. His head was spinning, his mind was a mess, and he felt nothing but pure ecstacy from the feeling of Doom’s sticky, warm cum coating his insides. His innards had been torqued enough not to question any of what the Doombringer was saying. 

“That’s a shame, because I’m not.”

“Eh? What?”

Forcefully, the Doombringer snatched Rattletrap and turned him around in the air, then shuffled around on the bed until he could lay the keen on top of it. “All fours,” he barked as he sat up, one of his hands already back on his cock. He started to stroke more rapidly than the Clockwerk could ever hope to, while he grabbed hold of one of the keen’s cheeks with his free hand.

Lucifer didn’t even need to keep touching himself. The sight alone of Rattletrap’s ravaged ass was enough to get him just as hard as he was before. His stamina and appetite meant that the demon’s appetite wouldn’t be sated for a long few hours. He was ready to start another round, and he pressed the head of his dick against the Clockwerk’s wet, dripping hole.

Unlike Rattletrap, however, Lucifer wasn’t going to start slowly.

“I just think you sh-- daaah!”

The Clockwerk’s protests turned into cries as Lucifer slammed his cum-covered demon dick inside of Rattletrap’s open ass. He pulled out, then shoved it back in again, each time with unmatched vigor. Clearly, he hadn’t been taken out at all by his first climax inside the keen -- he could go for another round or ten. And that’s exactly what he was doing: he was thrusting as hard as he could, as fast as he could, and didn’t give a fuck about what Rattletrap thought.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Lucifer asked mockingly, knowing full well that he wouldn’t get a sensible response.

“I’m… I just… I can’t…” Rattletrap’s voice was wavering with the constant squeezes on his ass and plunges into it. His face was pressed into the mattress, and he seemed to have just enough energy to keep holding his ass in the air -- although the Doombringer was doing that for him anyway.

“Oh, shut up. I don’t care if you can or not.”

Rather unceremoniously, with a final, strong push, the Doombringer once again came inside of Rattletrap, releasing just as much as he did mere minutes ago. The large loads of cum were starting to gather up, and a noticeable bulge had appeared in the Rattletrap’s abdomen. This one, though, didn’t go away after Lucifer pulled his dick out. He placed one of his hands to it, and heard it slosh around. He laughed to himself, contented.

Still with his hands on Rattletrap’s body, he slid them back over to the keen’s ass and brought his face down to its level. He stuck out his tongue and gave Rattletrap’s entrance a long, slow slurp. The Clockwerk’s whole body flinched at the sensation of Lucifer’s hot, slimy tongue toying with his hole. “H-hey!” he cried meekly. “What are you doing back there?”

The demon poked and prodded around, exploring how deep he could get in the ruined chasm that was Rattletrap’s asshole. He pulled it out, licked his lips, and spoke in a low tone.

“Getting you ready.”

It would be a while until they were done.

\--

The Doombringer was once again unsure what to do. He supposed it only made sense that a keen would have nowhere near as much stamina as he, only lasting for a mere few hours before passing out entirely.

Perhaps the demon could use the time to catch up on his meals… well, he would, if he had any functioning armor. Grumbling to himself, he decided to take a seat (or as much as he could of one) at Rattletrap’s desk and patiently wait for the keen to awake. Lucifer glanced over at the desk, full of complicated schematics he didn’t care for.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, a leatherbound journal caught his grasp. The Doombringer looked back nervously over at Rattletrap -- out like a lantern -- and back at the journal. Perhaps he would read it, just to pass the time. What could even be in there, anyway?

What could have been in there, indeed.


End file.
